


Adjournment

by ambiguously



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Circus, Gen, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-04 15:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Joining the Rebellion means attending meetings. Enfys Nest is not happy about this.





	Adjournment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosecake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/gifts).

The Rebellion has meetings now.

Enfys has been fighting for freedom since she can remember being old enough to hold an electroripper staff. Combat is the holy duty of her family, passed from mother to daughter in sacred trust. Looking around this room, too crowded for her tastes, she sees the faces of people who fight out of desperation, or out of revenge, or out of petty need to feel part of something bigger than themselves. Mon Mothma thinks she can forge an alliance out of this poor starting material. Enfys has her doubts.

They go over old business, and Enfys longs to take to her swoop and soar. They turn to current staff issues, and Enfys is ready to scream. She did not join these people to discuss minor points of contention over supply distribution. She joined because the only means to free the galaxy from the oppression of the Empire and of the Syndicates that snarl and hiss over its scraps is to align with others who share that same goal. Instead, she has thrown her lot in with politicians, busybody middle managers, and lost souls without direction. The brighter ones fear her, hidden behind her ceremonial mask. The rest dismiss her as another radical swept up in Mothma's accepting arms, no different from Gerrera's vicious cell or the Twi'lek terrorists who keep Ryloth a battleground. All the Rebels give Enfys Nest a wide berth, and they all watch her with the eyes of those looking upon one fated to die soon and badly.

This is not a military alliance. This is a circus under the watch of a well-meaning ringmaster who refuses to acknowledge that her people view one another as nothing more than clowns.

The clowns call for a reading of the minutes when the discussion is complete.

After the meeting, Enfys breaks away from the rest, her mind and heart dark with despair. If this is the best the Rebellion can do, she and the Cloud-Riders are better off alone, completing their own self-appointed mission. She will return to her own ship, and she will order Weazel to put the word out. They will not be returning.

"Enfys?"

She turns. The leader of the Alliance has followed her, away from the committees and the minutiae. Mothma is tall, graceful, stolid in the face of adversity, but she looks tired.

Enfys is still prickly after such enforced closeness. "Sorry. Did you need a quorum to vote over the distribution of the meiloorun shipment?"

This draws a half-smile from Mothma. "Surely even the Cloud-Riders have their own requisition issues from time to time."

"We do. I have someone whose job it is to deal with it."

"While you go fight."

"Yes."

Mothma extends her arm, pointing towards the landing bay. Enfys glances in that direction, as though she can see through multiple duracrete walls to where the new batch of X-Wings are being allocated to the new batch of pilots. "We do that job so they can fight. I'm not a pilot."

"I am. My people are not politicians. We are warriors." That's what has been grating on her this whole time. As the leader, she's expected to interface with the rest of the Rebellion.

"I understand. Politics is not a skill many people possess. If it was, we'd need fewer wars."

Enfys bristles, thinking Mothma is mocking her and her lifestyle, but there is no derision in the other woman's face, merely acceptance.

"Call upon us when you need warriors," Enfys says, turning away again.

"We do. Now. Do you know the reason the Cloud-Riders are valuable to the cause?"

Because we are ready to die for it. "Enlighten me."

"The Empire hangs over the galaxy like a heavy shroud, choking out light and life." Ah. This is a speech. Enfys shifts herself to a resting position and aims to stay awake. "The Alliance has come together to pull the shroud away. But beneath this dark blanket, other creatures devour the pieces of the galaxy for themselves. The Hutts. The Pykes. Black Sun. They are scavengers happy to destroy what the Empire has not already usurped."

"I know that. The Syndicates are as bad as the Empire."

"Which is why I rely on you to keep them at bay while the rest of us take on the Emperor and his forces. We will fight to our last breath to free the galaxy. Enfys, I trust you and your people to preserve the very thing we are fighting for along the way."

She's being handled. Enfys recognizes this, sees through the woman's words to note the shape of the manipulation. But she must admit, it's effective.

"No more meetings."

"Not for you. You're welcome to send a representative as you desire. You can ask for help any time you need it. We are your allies." Buried inside is the hook: Enfys and her people will be expected to come at Mothma's call when the need arises. It's a fair trade today, safe within these old temple walls. Tomorrow, who can say?

It has to be enough. Enfys is happy to fight the Syndicates. She can't do that and fight the Empire singlehandedly. Her mother and her mother's mother would understand.

"Agreed." She hesitates. "Thank you."

Mothma takes her hand. Even under her glove, Enfys feels the cool fire of the woman's presence.

"May the Force be always at your side," Mothma tells her, and Enfys smiles beneath her fearsome mask.


End file.
